


never let your head hit the bed (without my hand behind it)

by buhnebeest



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:40:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buhnebeest/pseuds/buhnebeest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jim,” Bones breathes, hot and damp against his throat, “Relax, darlin.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on October 2nd 2010 [at my journal.](http://buhnebeest.livejournal.com/2789.html#cutid1)

Bones is kissing him, slow and soft, sliding his tongue against Jim’s like a caress. He’s cupping Jim’s jaw with his palms, stroking Jim’s cheeks softly with the pads of his thumbs, his fingertips warm and sure at the nape of his neck.  
  
It’s been going on forever and it feels like it will never end, just Bones kissing him, and Jim’s been trying to get things moving, tried dirtying up the kiss, tried rocking his hips up against Bones, tried moaning wantonly, tried every fucking thing to get Bones to just fuck him already. But Bones doesn’t, counters every one of Jim’s moves by just pulling away, resting his forehead against Jim’s, staring into him, waiting.  
  
It makes Jim feel more naked than his lack of clothes should permit, like Bones is looking at all the little parts of himself he’s managed to hide all the other times, looking at them and scheming how to expose them all. Bones should be pounding him into the mattress by now, fast and rough, because Jim wants it like that, he does, wants explosions, not this slow burn.  
  
Jim doesn’t know what to do, how to move, what Bones wants from him. He’s trembling with the uncertainty of it, or maybe it’s Bones’ fingers trailing down his chest, a feather-like touch. Or maybe it’s Bones’ other hand, still cradling his head, tilting him back so he can suckle on Jim’s lower lip, nip at his mouth a little. Jim kisses back, feeling clumsy and unsure, his hands clenching at the sheets in frustration because he doesn’t want to feel like this, new, insecure. Jim doesn’t understand this and feels like and idiot for it, tensing up now and-  
  
“Jim,” Bones breathes, hot and damp against his throat, “Relax, darlin.”  
  
Jim twitches, closes his eyes, because that word sounds a lot different when Bones isn’t mixing it in with dirty directions or obscene praises. Jim can feel Bones’ drawling voice seeping into his skin, burning him up from the inside and reddening his cheeks. Bones keeps telling him to relax, everything’s fine, while stroking his hand down lower, over Jim’s stomach and his pelvis.  
  
Just when Bones’ hand is curling around him Jim realizes with a shock he’s close to coming, his dick hard and flushed and leaking precome. Bones’ touch is nearly too much, has Jim bucking up his hips, and Bones lets him this time, helps him along with beautiful little twists of his wrist.  
  
Bones says huskily, ‘there you go, so gorgeous’, before kissing him again, claiming Jim’s mouth as his own, claiming Jim as his own, and it is too much, Jim’s coming, gasping as he spurts in Bones’ hand. Bones kisses him through it, catches all Jim’s noises and keeps them for himself.  
  
“Spread your legs.” Bones murmurs against his lips, and Jim obeys dumbly, still half-gone. His eyes flutter closed as Bones’ fingers slowly push in to him, slick with Jim’s come, carefully opening him up one at a time. There’s barely any resistance at all when Bones finally presses his cock inside. Jim feels boneless and meek and good, opening up, and it’s like a freefall from space, terrifying but exhilarating, too.  
  
The bed feels like a cold stone floor compared to the soft comfort of Bones on top of him, surrounding him, warm and solid, covering him. Bones’ cock is big and blunt inside him, hot, rubbing insistently against his prostate with every rock from Bones’ hips. The hand cradling Jim’s head is moving, petting him, and Bones’ other hand is lifting Jim’s leg to curl around his waist so he can lean closer to kiss and nibble and suck at Jim’s lips, jaw, throat.  
  
Jim’s heart lurches suddenly, brutally, because Bones isn’t fucking him, Bones is making love to him. The realization knocks the breath out of him, abruptly obvious, and all he can hear is his frantic heartbeat and a voice, panicked, gasping that nonono, wait stopwait, don’t –  
  
And Bones does stop, pulls out, he’s leaving – Jim starts gasping for air, can’t catch his breath, and he puts his hands over his face because Bones can’t see him like this, vulnerable. Some distant part of him is yelling at him that Bones isn’t leaving, that those are Bones’ arms wrapping around him, Bones’ voice telling him it’s okay, to calm down.  
  
Bones rolls them on their sides, pulls Jim close so his head is pillowed on Bones’ upper arm, their legs tangled together. He cards his fingers through Jim’s hair, soothingly, and it works because Jim isn’t hyperventilating anymore, his heart’s slowing down, and all that’s left is an uncomfortable combination of fear and shame, cloying.  
  
“Don’t hide your face, darlin.” Bones tells him quietly, “C’mon, look at me.”, but Jim can’t – can’t – and he shakes his head jerkily, furious suddenly, because Bones gave this to him but Jim doesn’t deserve it at all, how could Bones be so stupid?  
  
Bones pulls him even closer, tightens the arm he’s got curled around Jim’s shoulder. He presses his forehead against Jim’s, softly, whispers, ‘Not stupid’ and ‘Let me see you, darlin’ and how Jim doesn’t have to be afraid because it’s just Bones and Bones loves him, he does, and Jim believes him, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.  
  
“It means I want to see you, Jim.” Bones says calmly, calmingly, “All the time I want to look at you and talk to you and take care of you. And that won’t ever go away." He takes Jim wrist cautiously, tugs it away. Jim lets him, stares up at Bones’ painfully handsome face, and thinks that that’s a pretty good description.


	2. if you want love we'll make it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror scene to the previous chapter, from Bones' POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here.](http://buhnebeest.livejournal.com/2913.html#cutid1)

  
  
  
Jim’s mouth is a treat, a pleasure to taste, apples and cinnamon; a dessert meant to savor, too luxurious to binge on. Leonard can’t get enough of it, lets his tongue glide between those full lips and tastes, cherishes the wet heat with careful slides of his tongue.  
  
He cradles Jim’s face with his hands, feels the smooth shaven skin of Jim’s cheeks and the soft short hair between his fingertips. Jim’s tongue is sweet and pliant against his now, and maybe Jim’s finally given up, won’t try to force this in a direction Leonard doesn’t want it to go.  
  
He can see it in Jim’s face, the confusion, like Jim’s waiting for Leonard to get bored with this, and because Leonard doesn’t (and never will) he tries to jumpstart them, writhing on the bed and moaning encouragingly, all theatrics. Leonard doesn’t want Jim like that, not anymore, not for a while now, and Jim doesn’t either, whatever he might tell himself. Jim hides it well, all bluster and innuendo, but he stares at Leonard’s hands with longing, looks at his face with a rapt desire not compatible with his constant suggestions of raunchy exploits.  
  
So Leonard kisses him, until Jim goes limp beneath him, a moment’s triumph, and he lets one of his hands slide behind Jim’s head, tightens his fingers just a little bit in Jim’s hair. Leonard lets his other hand travel down over Jim’s pectorals, as Jim leans back into him, lets him, and by now Jim’s lips look undeniably delicious, lush and red, so he sucks on them a little, feels Jim’s breath hot against his skin.  
  
Jim is kissing back hesitantly now, uncertain little pecks, and he’s thinking about it too much, Leonard can feel his muscles go taut with tension.  
  
“Jim,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to his chin, “Relax, darlin.”, and Jim’s entire body jerks, and his eyes squeeze shut, cheeks staining red, and Leonard stares at him for a moment, mesmerized by the beauty of it, Jim so captured by just one word. His heart tightens as he watches Jim bask in it, all the while trying very hard not to, wound up so tight, and all Leonard wants to do is hold him close until he’s used to this, used to being loved. He ghosts his fingers over Jim’s ribcage and down past his bellybutton, brushes his knuckles over Jim’s pubis, runs his fingers through the light soft curls there.  
  
“Just relax.” he whispers roughly, “Everything’s fine.”, as he wraps his hand around Jim’s cock loosely, hot and slick and full, and Jim gasps, a startled little sound. Jim thrusts up into his hand desperately, like he thinks Leonard might take his hand away, and Leonard tightens his hand pointedly, strokes along with the artless movements of Jim’s hips.  
  
Jim’s face is open, disbelief and pleasure, his lips parted and his eyes wide, staring at Leonard helplessly, desperately, and Leonard wants Jim to know, wants those goddamn eyes of his to shine with the certainty that Leonard will always have him, the knowledge that he’s precious to someone in the world.  
  
“There you go, so gorgeous,” he whispers lovingly, before kissing him again, swallowing Jim’s hitched breaths and moans, kissing him through his orgasm as he catches Jim’s come in his palm, warm and slick, only pulls back a millimeter to tell Jim to spread his legs, which he does, immediately, with sluggish deliberation.  
  
Leonard pushes his index finger inside slowly, the tight muscle already relaxing, opening up for the rest of Leonard’s fingers, slicking Jim up inside and getting him ready for his cock. Jim is moaning, a quiet stream of oh and yes, not even aware he doing it. It’s beautiful, amazing, and Leonard guides his dick inside Jim’s hole, pushes deep and moans at the feel of it, so hot and narrow around him.  
  
He rocks his hips at a slow pace, wants to make it last, crouches down low over Jim’s body so he can shelter him, lifts Jim’s leg to wrap around him so he can get as close as possible. He’s as tender as he wants to be, doesn’t hold back at all, cradles Jim’s head and kisses him everywhere he can reach, his lips, jaw, throat, pours his adoration into every touch.  
  
Abruptly, Leonard knows something’s very very wrong; Jim’s tensing up, shaking, and not even nearly in a good way. He’s pushing at Leonard’s shoulders, a clear signal – off – and Leonard’s heart pounds hard in his chest, because Jim looks wrecked, gasping, ‘nonono. Wait. Stop, wait. Don’t –’ in a broken voice.  
  
Leonard pulls out immediately, and Jim lets out an anguished gasp as his hands fly to his face, hiding, and Leonard has to see his face, because Jim doesn’t talk, doesn’t ever say what he wants, and all Leonard has is his expression to go on, to know how he can make it better. And Jim is hyperventilating, so scared, and something ugly grows in Leonard’s chest, a burning hate for everyone who’s ever emptily promised Jim anything.  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispers, wrapping Jim up in his arms, shifting them on their sides, because this is the most important thing right now, and he tells Jim softly to calm down, running his fingers through his thick hair until Jim does, his breathing slowly but surely slowing down.  
  
Leonard tells him quietly not to hide his face, to look at him, but Jim doesn’t, shaking his hand, and his voice is muffled by his palms but Leonard can hear him, “… don’t deserve…so stupid.”, and Leonard’s arm tightens around his quaking shoulders involuntarily, presses his forehead to Jim’s, willing him to hear him, listen to him, that he’s not stupid, and he wants to see Jim’s face, darlin, please.  
  
“It’s just me,” he promises, “And I love you, I do. You believe me?”  
  
Jim nods, thankfully, but he tells his hands quietly, “…doesn’t have to mean anything.”, and Leonard will spend the rest of his life convincing Jim that it means everything, starting right now.  
  
“It means I want to see you, Jim. All the time I want to look at you and talk to you and take care of you. And that won’t ever go away.”, and he takes Jim wrist cautiously, tugs it away. Jim lets him, stares up at Leonard, eyes painfully vulnerable, and hopeful, and Leonard thinks that’s a good start.


End file.
